


Miss Sandman

by MyIvy



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Art, Fanart, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 09:05:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16014731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyIvy/pseuds/MyIvy
Summary: "That robot said you were a lawyer.""That's because I am," replied Bella.Short thing. Backstory idea for Nora.





	Miss Sandman

    

 

"That robot said you were a lawyer," said John as they were heading back to Goodneighbor after assisting the robotic crew of the USS Constitution.  
  
"That's because I am," replied Bella. "I was. Before all this," she gestured off-handedly at a the entire world that was left after the apocalypse. "Hold on."  
  
They took some time to shoot a few feral ghouls in the head. She always worried he was offended when they had to kill ferals, but he never indicated he was bothered.  
  
"How does a lawyer know how to do all of this?" He gestured at the pile of corpses they'd made.  
  
"Violent video games, I guess." Bella used her boot to kick a body out of the pile and then bent down to loot through its pockets.  
  
"Whatever you say, sister," murmured Hancock.  
  
\----------  
Christmas Eve.

Nora was eleven and Antony Michellino gently plucked the knife out of her hand and then picked her up in his old but massive arms. "Alright. All done," he said as he carried her away from the bodies of her parents, away from the house that had been Hell. "All over."  
  
"Am I going to jail?" she asked quietly, as he bundled her into the car, the red of blood difficult to separate from the cartoon strawberries on her pajamas.    
  
"No, _bella_ . Little girls shouldn't go to jail for being brave. You're going to come live with me now."  
  
\---------------  
  
"Now what?" asked Antony, rubbing his hands together to warm them.  
  
Cupping her own hands, Nora breathed on them and frowned, trying to remember. It was November and they were in the woods, standing over a downed deer.  
  
"We have to drain the blood," she recited. "So it's not so messy. And so the blood doesn't get into the best meat we hang it upside down."  
  
Antony smiled, "That's right." He bent down and hauled the deer onto his shoulders and they headed back through the snow to the cabin. Outside the cabin was a gambrel and Antony showed her how to string it up properly, letting her help make the cuts.  
  
Eddie was there inside the cabin, cutting up vegetables at their stove.  
  
He squinted at her. "You the pet project?"  
  
"Bella's family, Eddie," said Antony easily as he helped her get her coat off.  
  
"I brought some vegetables up from the hothouse," said Eddie, changing the subject. "I thought you might want 'em for playin' house up here."  
  
"Thank you, Eddie," said Antony.  "Bella, can you entertain yourself? Me and Eddie have to talk about boring adult things."  
  
Nora nodded and went to the bookshelf, finding a battered mystery novel she could pretend to read while Eddie and Antony talked over a map of Boston.  
  
\-----------

Fourth of July.

Eddie fingered her hair. “You’re gettin’ real big.”

She batted it away, narrowing her eyes at him.

“How old are you again?”

“Fifteen.”

\-------

  
"Am I always going to do this?" Nora asked softly, cleaning off her knife.  
  
"Do what?" asked Vincent, starting to use a hose to wash blood down the drain at the center of the floor.  
  
Nora gestured at the body spread out on the plastic.  
  
Vincent shrugged. "You're good at it. Do what you're good at."  
  
Nora frowned, crouching down to pick up the roll of duct tape, resisting the urge to rip it with her teeth. DNA. Never do that. She wrapped the body up neatly, taping down the edges, making sure rope bullet casings and toes and ears and odds and ends were all inside the neat, bloody package.  
  
Nora would oversee the disposal herself. She would put this bundle in spare tire compartment in her car, under her trunk, and drive the body out to a pig farm upstate.  This work was mostly about being meticulous. And she was meticulous. She worked hard, she paid attention to details.  
  
Because she loved Antony. She never wanted anything bad to happen to the old man or his family. The problem with people was that they got lazy, sloppy. They rushed. Because, even though this was the difference between jail and freedom, life and death, people just got lazy.  
  
She would never get lazy.

“What would you rather be doin’?” asked Vincent, surprising her.

“I kind of...wanted to be a lawyer,” she mumbled as she lifted the body like a gruesome bride.

“That’s a lot of hard work,” said Vincent.

“I can do it.”

She wasn’t lazy. 

\-----

 

New Years Eve.

  
"Nathan, this is Bella. She's going to be the family lawyer."  
  
She smiled. "It's really Nora. Bella is just what everyone calls me."

“Nate is a soldier, Bella. He’s Vincent’s friend.”  
  
She felt Nathan sizing her up, taking in her broad shoulders, strong wrists, scarred up hands. "You box?" he asked, grinning and indicating her hands.  
  
"Yeah," she smiled. She didn't box.

“Nate was injured in the war,” said Bernadette Michellino later to Nora as she helped in the kitchen.

“Oh?” murmured Nora in confusion, he looked fine.

Bernadette nodded solemnly. “Antony and I, we thought you would like him.”

“I don’t want a man,” mumbled Nora. “You know that.” In the backseat of a car, any fumbling had ended with her hyperventilating and apologizing.

Bernadette bit her lip. “Mm...he’s not a...he’s a _castrato_ , Bella.”

Nora stared at the woman who was struggling not to look her in the eye. Castrato? Where had she heard that word before?

Oh.

From the private Catholic school that the Michellinos had enrolled her in. When she learned about how the Church used to assure that boys would maintain their soprano voices into adulthood.

“Oh.”

Maybe that could work.

  
\---  
  
"Eddie Winter went and turned himself into a ghoul. Two-hundred years before it was fashionable. Hell, he was probably the first one."  
  
"What?" said Bella, feeling like she was seeing Nick Valentine for the first time. Did he notice the way her eyes dilated? Just a little?

Eddie. Eddie was still alive. In a bunker somewhere. She was having a hard time listening. She pictured Eddie, as a ghoul. A heavy set ghoul in suspenders and slacks.

That son of a bitch. After all this time. He was alive.

\------

“No one thinks you’re involved,” Antony said.

“Let me take it,” she said, trembling. “You’re too....you’re too old, old man. You can’t go to jail.”

“What are you going to say? That you’re the boss of the family? Everyone knows you’re not. You’re a kid. Sonny and you and Vincent can run things just fine without me. And I got good lawyers, they’ll get me out eventually. Don’t cry, Bella.”

But he was wrong. Without Antony at the helm the others started to seep into the territory.

And the first to come was Eddie Winter.

And Nora never forgot it.

\------

“You killed my fiance. Jennifer Lands. There are some crimes even you can't get away with, Winter.”

Winter’s eyes slowly drifted to her finally. And there was something there. Some recognition, even though she’d covered the lower half of her face with a bandana.

She blew his head off with a .44 snub nose.

Bella’s stomach flipped.

No.

No, Nick wasn’t just a cop on a case. No. Why had he lied to her? Why?

His fiance.

His fucking fiance.

\------

  
"So Sasha here is gonna take the test for you, Bella, no sweat. This is your...fifth time taking the bar exam?"  
  
"It's my third time in this state, my sixth time over all," said Sasha.  
  
"You see, Bella? A master."  
  
Nora rested her chin on her hand, looking put out. She wanted to pass the bar on her own. But she guessed the Michellinos weren't taking any chances.  
  
"She doesn't look much like me..."  
  
Sasha had similar amber skin but her hair was short and brown, not long and not black. "I'll wear a wig," said Sasha. "Don't worry. The person administering the test is in on it too. I slip him a couple hundred and he's happy."  
  
Sonny Michellino slid a magazine across the diner table to Sasha. "That should be everything you'll need."  
  
Sasha's very nice nails clicked on the plastic table top as she slid her purse on top of the magazine and stood, as if it had been hers all along. "Thanks, Sonny."  
  
As she watched Sasha leave the diner, Nora still wished she was the one taking the bar. She'd studied so hard, gone to so many classes, pulled her hair out over every essay. All that hard work...when all it really took was a couple thousand for some random person to just take it for her.  
  
Sonny put his hand over hers, "I know you're a smart girl, but we need this to be a sure bet. Besides, you're busy. We need you at your best, not stressing out about some test."  
  
Nora nodded. "Right. So what's this thing you need?"  
  
Sonny rubbed the bridge of his nose. "It's for Eddie."  
  
She wrinkled her nose.

Sonny spread his hands. “You know what we export now.” Death. Death was the major contribution of the Michellino family to the Boston ecosystem. “Eddie’s a big client.”

She gave a short nod. “Right. On it.”

\--------

“In this spot, two hundred years ago, one of Eddie's boys put a bullet in Jenny Lands’ back.”

Tears stung her eyes.

God, no. He had it all wrong. No.

Jennifer Lands would have been suspicious of a man approaching her. Spooked. She should have been in witness protection but she wasn’t.

And here was a woman. A tall woman but a _lady_. A real lady in nice heeled boots, scarf, immaculate makeup, and a neat jacket. A jacket with a pocket perfect for her nice little .22 revolver.

She wanted to tell him it had been fast. She hadn’t had time to be afraid, she hadn’t been scared. She’d done it clean. She’d done it good, done it right. Never lazy. She’d left the body as a warning and driven back home in her Hudson Hornet.

“I’m sorry, Nick,” she shuddered. “I’m so sorry.”

“She would have liked you,” said Nick.

No. No, she wouldn’t have.


End file.
